Lost and Loaded
by Tunnel-Visionary
Summary: ONESHOT: He's been drinking again. And seeing things again. Now his mind is playing dirty tricks on him, giving him tastes of everything he could ever want.


_**Lost and Loaded**_

_Disclaimer: Doesnotown, Doesnotown, DOESNOTWNNNN :[_

He sat there; drink in hand as he stared at the television, the picture and the audio still not quite matching. Couldn't be the alcohol, at least that's what he reasoned. He hadn't had enough to distort his senses that extremely. Must have just been a delay. Maybe his whole day was on delay. Maybe he was just tired.

Either way, it didn't keep that scotch from having the same bite it always had, nor did it keep the wheels in his head constantly turning as he poured the stinging liquid into his mouth, letting it flow slowly down his throat where he could feel the burn long after all the liquid had dissipated. Another glass gone, knocked back like it was nothing. He wasn't even keeping track at this point, in fact it hardly even seemed like he'd been refilling his glass.

"I really should stop drinking." He sighed to no one in particular as he leaned forward to grab the almost empty bottle and pour himself another drink.

"I agree." A sweet voice with a hint of heat said, filling the air with something other than the delayed static. She walked around the beat up sofa, reaching out and letting her fingers trail along the back of it, lightly brushing against the skin of his neck as she made her way to him.

"How'd you get in here?" He asked, surprisingly not shocked. Yes, he had to have been drinking for quite awhile. An abrupt appearance by a very dead girl didn't even faze him? Had to be the alcohol…

"Put your drink down." It wasn't a request. It was a command. And, as he usually responded to commands, House defied her and tipped his drink back, finishing off the very last of his hot liquid.

"You're going to regret that." She laughed. It was a snarky laugh, but a nice laugh nonetheless. Sarcastic and biting, but also amused and maybe even happy.

"I think I'd regret if I didn't." A small smirk played at his lips as he set his empty glass on the table next to his empty bottle. "I'm seeing dead people. Cause to drink more."

"If I'm dead how can you see me?"

"Easy. I'm drunk. I'm dreaming. Worst case scenario, I'm hallucinating."

"Worst case scenario is you're not."

House laughed, running his fingers through her angelic hair, pulling her closer to him as they spoke. "Enlighten me."

"Say I'm not dead…" She purred, her tone strangely erotic considering their topic of discussion. "IF I'm not, and you think I am, it means you were hallucinating my death. Which means your entire life since then could be… just your imagination."

"I also could have just dreamed you up. Who knows if you ever actually existed."

"Who knows indeed." Her smile was so damn pretty. It lit up the entire dark room like no staticy TV ever could. His eyes dropped from her face to trail over every curve of her body as she pulled herself onto his lap, holding him by the collar of his shirt. "Seems you'll just have to trust me."

"What are you doing here?" He asked, his voice low so as not to disrupt this amazing dream…

"Give me ten minutes and you'll know the answer to that."

His eyebrow shot up quickly as she leaned in and breathed hotly over his lips, slowly sliding her hands down his chest as she carefully pulled each button away, exposing more and more of the last layer standing between her and his skin. She gently licked at his lips, knowing that she could take all the time she needed.

"This doesn't make any sense…" He said quietly, not resisting her touch at all as he allowed his own hands to travel up her bare legs and under her fitted black skirt that she seemed to be wearing whenever he saw her.

"What doesn't?" She whispered, her lips pressed against his, keeping control of the situation even when he tried to capture her lips between his own. "Your door was unlocked. You knew I'd come by."

"I obviously forgot. How, I'll never know. I'm not one to forget when sex comes knocking at my door."

"No, but you always ignore prospective relationships." The sarcasm in her voice was back, and he almost didn't notice because the sharpness in her voice was nothing compared to the sensations her teeth left against his neck. "Physical, emotional, romantic or friendly. Face it House, you're a runner. A coward."

"You seem to like it."

He felt her smile against his skin as she pushed the fading blue shirt off of his shoulders and down his arms, leaving it in a pool around him as he yanked his arms out and set his hands on the hem of her skirt. He fumbled around momentarily, looking for a zipper or button of some sort to just get the damn thing off of her.

"I like your nature. Not what a chicken shit you are."

House laughed and tugged slowly at the zipper as she kicked her shoes off and pulled his tee shirt up his chest. "Do you always insult men you're about to sleep with?"

"I don't usually need to." Her words were muffled by kisses that varied in roughness and use of teeth on the newly exposed skin of his chest, and as he yanked his shirt off he prayed to whatever gods he didn't believe in that she couldn't feel how fast his heart was already racing at her simple touches.

They said little more, a few jabs here and there as they made their way back to his bedroom, the door slamming closed as he threw her against it, recognizing his time to gain control an be the dominant one in their situation. And take advantage of it he did, ripping her shirt open, sending a button of two flying to the floor. His lips made their way down her slender neck and surprisingly bony chest, eliciting groans and soft, muffled noises of pleasure from the girl whose hair color matched her name.

She pushed him back, arms still wrapped around his neck, towards his bed where they fell, tangled in each other as their hot breath collided and their moans mixed with each other.

He felt her as her hands traveled to her own waist, finishing the job he had started earlier by pushing her skirt off and dropping it to the floor. He wanted to look at her, see what she looked like without the soft black fabric circling her divine legs. Of course, his attempts were thwarted when her lips were back against his and her lower regions pressed against his seductively. A groan rolled in his throat, generating a smile on her lips.

"You'll never forget this." She purred, her hands sliding down to his tightening jeans.

"How could I?"

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Wilson had tried without success to have House open the door for the past half hour. He finally resigned himself to picking the lock, as he'd unfortunately done in the past. Upon bursting into his apartment he found his friend sitting on the couch, staring blankly at the television that wasn't even turned on, a full glass of scotch in hand with his feet propped up next to a full bottle of the same poisoning liquid.

"House?" He said quietly, afraid of the worst for him. Laying his hand on his shoulder seemed to bring House out of his trance, and the scruffy man looked up at his worried best friend.

"House, are you ok?"

House looked around, confused and frustrated. Finally, after not being able to find what he was searching for he shook his head.

"Not anymore."

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A/N: So I'm totally a Huddy shipper, but I've wanted to write a House/Hallucination smex for a long time because smex with things that are not there is hawt. As proved by the season finale.

BTW, 2-hour season premiere! We only have to wait until September -.-


End file.
